


Call Me Princess

by Ropewithnoanchor



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Louis in Panties, Louis in a Tiara, Louis is Harry's princess, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 02:50:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4547301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ropewithnoanchor/pseuds/Ropewithnoanchor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>This isn’t the first time they’ve had panties in the bedroom, but it’s the first time he’s been the one to wear them, so naturally he’s a little apprehensive. The tiara wobbles a bit where it’s perched on top of his hair as he bends over to step into the delicate lace, pulling the underwear up his legs and over his ass.</i>
</p><p>Or, the one where Louis comes home to Harry after hosting the Cinderella Ball, and Harry wants to treat Louis like a princess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Me Princess

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in one sitting with no one to proof read, all mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

Louis feels lighter than air as he unlocks the door to his and Harry’s apartment. “Harry!” he calls out, struggling to undo his cufflinks and closing the door behind him with his foot. “Hazza?” 

Harry’s head peaks out from the kitchen, mouth spread wide in a grin with deep dimples on his cheeks. “How was it?” he asks. 

“Incredible,” Louis sighs happily, his shoes smacking against the tile floors as he closes the distance between him and Harry. He sniffs the air as he nears the kitchen, trying to figure out if Harry’s made something. “I didn’t get a chance to eat a damn thing though,” he hints.

“Food later,” Harry promises, giving Louis’s mouth a chaste kiss before taking him by the shoulders and turning him back around. “Go upstairs and shower first.”

Louis shoots him a quizzical look as Harry steers him toward the staircase. “What—do I smell?” he asks, lifting an arm to check for B.O. He hears Harry’s low giggle behind him. 

“Just trust me,” Harry says, patting Louis’s bum over his tight black pants when the reach the foot of the stairs. “Shower, and I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

Louis doesn’t know what’s going on, but he’s running on adrenaline from such an amazing event, and of course he trusts Harry with his heart and soul, so he just shrugs and heads upstairs. Tossing his cufflinks onto a silver dish on top of their dresser and kicking off his dress shoes, he gets out of his suit jacket, tie, and shirt, dropping them in a pile. Peeling off his slacks takes a little more effort, and they trip him up around the ankles as he stumbles into the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes in his wake.

He leaves the bathroom door open deliberately, hoping to catch a peek of whatever Harry’s doing while he showers. Turning the water on to warm up, he’s grabbing a folded towel from the shelf when he sees Harry’s tattooed arm out of the corner of his eye as it reaches in and closes the door. 

“Hey!” he shouts in mock outrage. “What _are_ you on about, Styles?” 

“Just be quick in there and you’ll find out!” Harry calls back, his voice muffled through the door. 

Grumbling, Louis steps into the shower. The hot spray feels good, his body a little sore from standing all night, dancing with the little girls and holding them up for photos. Reaching for the vanilla body wash, still convinced he must smell, he pours out a generous amount in his palm before scrubbing it all over his body. 

“So tell me how it went,” he hears Harry yell to him from the bedroom. 

“So good,” he yells back. Wondering if Harry has some sort of…sexy surprise planned, Louis keeps cleaning himself extra well while he talks. “Paid ten thousand for Liam to get his face painted like a fairy. Best money I ever spent. And Marvel donated a life-size Spiderman statue to the auction, so I bought it for our living room. Hope you don’t mind.” 

He can hear Harry’s loud groan, and it makes him laugh. He washes all the gel out of his hair before shutting off the water, stepping onto the bathmat and toweling off. His curiosity is officially too much now, and he’s still dripping wet when he grabs onto the doorknob. 

“Can I come out now?” he asks. 

Harry only hesitates a second before answering, “Yes, m’ready.” 

Feeling a little jolt of excitement in his tummy, Louis pulls the bathroom door open. 

It takes a minute for his eyes to adjust, as Harry had turned all the lights off, and the only source of illumination comes from the flames of little tea lights scattered on top of their dresser, window sills, and bedside tables. Pastel pink rose petals cover their white duvet, giving the room a gentle, sweet scent, and there is Harry, fidgeting at the end of the bed, holding a little white gift box with a big pink bow on top. 

Louis swallows, his mouth dry. “Wha—what’s all this?” he whispers. 

Harry’s cheeks flush the same color as the rose petals. “Well,” he starts, voice low and slow. “After everything you did tonight, I, ah… I thought maybe it was your turn to feel like a princess.” 

Louis’s stomach does a little somersault. He can’t seem to move, glued to the wet spot on the carpet he’s made by dripping all over it. Harry stands up and walks over to him, wearing only a little pair of black boxer briefs and white socks, clutching the gift box in one hand so he can tug Louis towards the bed with the other. 

“Baby,” Louis says, but Harry cuts him off with a hot kiss. Their mouths fit together perfectly, warm and soft, and Louis feels Harry’s tongue give his lower lip a quick swipe. 

“Please,” Harry says breathlessly, pulling back just enough to get the word out before kissing Louis again. “Let me.” 

“O-okay,” Louis manages, not sure what he’s agreeing to.

Harry’s pulls back again, his green eyes sparkling in the candlelight as he hands Louis the gift. When Louis just holds it in his lap, Harry gently tugs on the bow until it unravels. “Open it,” he whispers. 

Louis glances at Harry’s eager face one more time before prying the cover off the white cardboard box. He squints, trying to see what’s nestled in the pretty pink tissue paper, something sparkly glinting and gleaming. 

When Harry nudges him, Louis reaches in, pulling out a tiny plastic and rhinestone tiara.

His heart is hammering in his chest, unsure how to feel about this gift, but Harry’s enormous grin is contagious as the younger boy takes the tiara from Louis’s shaky fingers. “C’mere,” Harry murmurs, and Louis tilts his head down so Harry can slide the plastic teeth into his wet hair and secure it on top of his head. 

Louis feels embarrassed when he straightens, but Harry kisses over the hot spots on his cheeks. “Now you’re a princess too,” he assures him, the words sounding so oddly dirty coming from Harry’s lipstick-pink lips in his deep voice. “ _My_ princess.” 

When Louis goes to put the box aside, though, Harry stops him, indicating with a nod of his head that there’s more to the present. A little nervous, Louis reaches in again, feeling through the tissue paper until his fingers reach soft fabric. 

This time, he knows what it is before he pulls it out—panties. Chewing on his lower lip, he examines the lacey piece in his lap, trying to tell if the material is white or baby pink in the dim candlelight. Still grinning ear-to-ear, Harry reaches to flip them over. 

The word ‘PRINCESS’ is written across the bum in hot pink rhinestones. 

Louis swallows, glancing up against at Harry for affirmation, and Harry gives him an enthusiastic nod. “Put them on,” Harry says, leaving little room for argument. 

Heat rushing to his face, Louis stands up, letting his damp towel fall to the floor. This isn’t the first time they’ve had panties in the bedroom, but it’s the first time _he’s_ been the one to wear them, so naturally he’s a little apprehensive. The tiara wobbles a bit where it’s perched on top of his hair as he bends over to step into the delicate lace, pulling the underwear up his legs and over his ass. 

The thrill and the nerves have gotten him a little hard, so his cockhead pokes out over the waistband, squeezed by the women’s cut. The backside, however, fits his bum perfectly, the floral lace decorating his tanned skin, cupping his best asset. The rhinestone word glitters in the flickering light of the candles as he rotates for Harry. 

“Princess,” Harry says aloud, reaching forward to grab onto Louis’s hips and drag him backward. 

Louis gasps as he finds himself sitting on Harry’s lap where the younger boy is perched on the edge of the bed. He can feel how hard Harry already is through his briefs, so throws his head back onto Harry’s shoulder and grinds down on him until Harry is the one gasping. 

“Thank you for my presents,” he whispers, his lips close to Harry’s ear in this position. He turns his head and nibbles on Harry’s neck as he moves his hips in circles. 

“You deserve them,” Harry answers, his voice just the slightest bit strained, his fingers digging into Louis’s hips. “You were so good tonight, did such a good thing for all those families.” 

Something about his new accessories has Louis feeling particularly dirty all of a sudden. He slips out of Harry’s grasp and crawls up onto the rose petal-covered bed, settling on his knees with his legs spread, hard cock on full display beneath the tight, white lace. He holds his hands behind his back and tips his head to the side cutely, feeling the lopsided tiara. “Are you gonna treat your princess?” he asks, blinking slowly. 

Harry’s eyes widen where he’s standing at the side of the bed, just staring at his boyfriend-turned-minx. But then they narrow, and his one word comes out in a low growl. 

“Yes.” 

Louis only has a second to react before Harry jumps onto the bed with him, knocking him down onto his back. Bouncing on their soft mattress, sending petals scattering, Louis pretends to struggle as Harry wrestles his arms together. Harry grabs the pink silky ribbon from the gift box and uses it to bind Louis’s wrists in front of him, tying it into a bow. 

“That’s not how you treat a princess!” Louis gasps, wriggling in his new bonds. If Harry wants to play out this fantasy, Louis can commit.

“That’s how you treat a naughty princess,” Harry assures him, smirking as he lowers his head and nuzzles Louis’s lace-covered cock. “A dirty little princess who’s already making a mess of her panties.” 

Louis glances down in surprise, realizing his precum has made a dark spot on the white lace. Before he can say anything, Harry’s lip close over the spot, sucking at the panties and making Louis choke on a groan at the sight. “Harry,” he whimpers. 

“Shh. Here,” Harry says, straightening up to put two fingers against Louis’s mouth. “Get them wet for me, won’t you, princess?”

Louis immediately opens his mouth, sucking Harry’s long fingers and swirling his tongue around them, feeling the metal of his rings. He tries to get them as wet with spit as possible, but Harry pulls them away after only a few seconds, using his other hand to jerk Louis’s panties to the side and expose his entrance. 

Trying not to tense up, Louis feels Harry’s two slick fingers circle his hole. Louis bends his bound arms at the elbow so he can chew on a thumbnail as Harry breaches him with one finger, wiggling it past his tight ring of muscle with only Louis’s spit for lubricant. 

It burns, but not unbearably so, and Louis lets out a high little whine when Harry gets the first finger in to the second knuckle. “Good, doing so good,” Harry mumbles, concentrating on loosening Louis up carefully, sliding his finger out and then back in. Louis pants through his nose at the feeling, digging his heels into the mattress and slipping on the petals. 

When Harry tries to wedge in a second finger, though, it hurts, and Louis finds himself reflexively shimmying up the bed to get away. But Harry wastes no time in grabbing onto his hips and dragging him back down, giving his inner thigh a good smack. “Good princesses stay still,” he reminds him. He puts his fingers back at Louis’s mouth, since the spit has mostly dried. “Suck them again.”

Louis does, trying to work faster to get them properly wet—even the one that has already been inside him. Harry fucks his fingers into Louis’s mouth this time, however, making him gag so he can gather the thick spit from the back of his throat. A few tears stick to Louis’s eyelashes when Harry withdraws. 

“There we go,” Harry says, his fingers dripping wet and gleaming now. They still hurt a bit when they both slide into Louis’s hole, but Louis holds perfectly still, Harry’s words about being a good princess echoing in his head. He’s not sure how he’s fallen so deeply under Harry’s spell, but he’s fully in this fantasy now. 

Harry fingers him open with his two spit-slick digits, taking his time stroking over Louis’s inner walls, teasing at his rim, and making absolutely certain not to touch the spot inside where Louis wants it the most. Louis cries and writhes, rocking his hips down and trying to get Harry’s fingers in deeper, but Harry just holds him in place with a grip on the waistband on his panties and keeps working. 

“Need more,” Louis begs when he absolutely can’t take it anymore. His cock feels like it’s going to burn a hole through its lace prison, and the tiara is hanging at the very tips of his hair now from all his wriggling. 

Harry pulls out his fingers to put the little crown properly back in place at the top of Louis’s head, tutting at him. “Such a greedy little princess,” Harry teases, dancing his fingers down Louis’s bound arms, over his hips and the tops of his thighs, avoiding his straining erection. 

“Please,” Louis outright begs, any inhibitions he had left melting away. He would be Harry’s princess for the rest of his life if Harry would _just touch him where he needs it._  

“Come here.” Harry takes Louis by the shoulders and helps him get up on his knees on top of the bed, rose petals sticking to his back. Louis’s bound wrists drop down between his hips, the bow of pink ribbon sitting inches above his cock. Only in this position does Louis now notice Harry’s own erection, perfectly outlined beneath his dark boxer briefs. 

Harry notices where Louis is looking, and he smirks. “Better get that wet, too, princess,” he says. 

Louis’s eyes widen, but he shuffles forward on his knees and reaches forward with his bound hands to tug Harry’s underwear down. His erection springs free, flushed red and heavy, and Louis balances on his fingertips to get low enough to suck it into his mouth. 

Harry tastes amazing, familiar and comforting and sexy, and Louis licks up and down his length to slick him up. It makes the glide of his lips easier when he tries to deep throat him, his tiara sparkling as his head bobs. 

“Fuck yeah,” Harry groans, thrusting his hips lightly. “That’s it, princess, so good.” 

When Louis needs a break, he presses kisses along Harry’s shaft, trying to catch his breath. “Please,” he hears himself begging. “Please, fuck me, Harry, please.” 

“Is that what you want?” Harry asks, grabbing hold of his cock to guide it back into Louis’s mouth. He drags the head over the soft inside of Louis’s cheek. “Think you can take it?” 

Louis groans, distantly wondering when his boyfriend—the same one who skips around on stage in gold sparkly boots and pushes baby carriages for friends—became this dirty. He digs his tongue into Harry’s slit, trying to get his attention. 

Harry shudders at the sensation, pulling out of Louis’s mouth and smacking him in the cheek with his wet cock. “Alright, princess, you can have what you want,” he teases, adjusting the tiara in Louis’s hair. “Turn over.” 

Louis scrambles, stumbling in the duvet, sending rose petals spinning to the floor. He gets on his elbows and knees, contemplating briefly trying to untie his wrists with his teeth but deciding better of it. Instead, he arches his back and sticks out his ass, attempting to look as enticing to Harry as possible.

Harry’s big hands cup over his bum, thumbs tracing the rhinestone letters there. Then those same hands are roughly pulling the panties down, just beneath the swell of Louis’s ass, positioned so that Louis can’t spread his thighs too far. Harry gives him one good spank before lining up at his hole. 

Louis pushes back, feeling how slick Harry’s cock is—from lube Harry quickly added, undoubtedly. “Fuck me,” he pleads unashamedly. 

He hears Harry huff out a laugh before suddenly his hole is stretching around the younger boy’s blunt cockhead. Louis chokes on a breath, screwing his eyes shut against the initial discomfort as Harry works his way inside of him, only letting the air out in a low groan when Harry finally bottoms out.

“Okay, princess?” Harry asks, checking in with him. Louis just manages to nod, digging his elbows deeper into the mattress and hanging his head.

“Fuck me,” he repeats. “Hard.” 

“Thought princesses would like it soft and gentle,” Harry wonders aloud, his tone still lightly teasing, as he pulls out halfway. Louis tries to give him some sassy answer back, but the words are knocked from his mouth when Harry thrusts back in. 

He feels so good, so full, stretched around Harry’s girth, rose petals all around him, a little plastic crown in his hair and white lace panties around his thighs. As his body adjusts to Harry’s size, Harry picks up speed, fucking Louis down into the mattress. Their skin sticks together with sweat, shining in the light of all the little candles scattered around the room. Louis’s cock swings heavily beneath him, completely ignored. 

“Need to come,” Louis gasps, his face pressed to a pillow. “Please, _please_ , need to come.” 

“Poor princess,” Harry coos, pressing down on the middle of Louis’s back to make him arch deeper. The change in position makes Harry’s cock hit his prostate, sending tremors up Louis’s spine and making him groan uncontrollably. 

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis all but wails between the little _ah, ah, ah’s_ he can’t stop making with each of Harry’s thrusts. 

Just when he thinks he can’t take it anymore, he feels the hand that isn’t pressing down on his back snake around his hip and grab hold of his cock. It’s the first time he’s truly been touched all night, and he almost collapses down onto the mattress with the sensation. 

The pleasure comes hard and fast as Harry starts stroking him in time with his thrusts, heat building at the base of Louis’s stomach, his balls drawing up close to his overheated body. “Gonna come, gonna come,” he chokes out, digging his sweaty forehead into the pillow. 

“Go ahead, princess,” Harry tells his, his voice tight with his own pleasure. 

That’s all Louis needs to let go, his body jerking and his thighs trembling as he shoots ropes of white up and down the rose petal-covered duvet. His body clenches like a vice around Harry, who only fucks him harder, chasing his own orgasm before releasing deep inside Louis’s hole. 

They both collapse down on top of the soiled bedding, Harry immediately wrapping his long arms around Louis’s body and pulling him in close. They take a few minutes to just bask in their pleasure, letting their muscles loosen and their breathing even out. Louis’s wrists are still tied in a pink bow, but Harry makes no move to free them. 

A little later, Louis feels like he’s waking up from a dream as he finally sits up, tugging the tiara out of his hair with his bound hands and struggling to pull his panties back up even though he can feel wetness seeping from his sore hole. Harry groans softly but sits up as well, pressing soft kisses over Louis’s shoulder and collarbone, the skin looking warm and perfect in the orange candlelight. 

“So good, princess,” Harry murmurs against his throat. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be treat princesses sweet?” Louis asks, letting out a tired laugh and turning the tiara over between his fingers. “Slay dragons and find their glass slippers and kiss them awake and all that? What kind of prince _are_ you?” 

“Guess I was more like the dragon,” Harry admits with a giggle, taking the tiara from him and putting it safely on the bedside table. “You just…you do that to me, I don’t even know.” 

Louis blushes, leaning heavily against Harry and resting his bound arms in his lap. “More fun to be a dirty princess than a sweet princess anyway,” he agrees. “Wish you could’ve been there tonight," he adds.

“Someday,” Harry promises, kissing along his jaw. “Tonight was your night.” 

Louis nods, knowing Harry chose to stay home tonight so that he wouldn’t unintentionally steal any of the spotlight away from Louis and his charity. It hadn't been vain; it had been self-aware, and it had been kind, and Louis loves him for it, even if he can't wait for the day when they can host charity events together, hand-in-hand. 

His stomach takes that opportunity to interrupt them, growling loudly and making Harry laugh. “I made you food, baby, come on downstairs,” he says, working to free the knot around Louis’s wrist. When he looks up and sees Louis pouting, though, he stops moving. “What?” 

“Don’t call me baby,” Louis mumbles, wriggling his wrists to loosen the knot. 

“What? Why?” Harry asks, eyes wide. 

“Call me princess.”


End file.
